The sky was overcast the next morning — a pale grey dome hanging over Harukaze High. The cherry blossoms, still clinging to their branches, seemed quieter under the heavy clouds. The petals no longer danced. They waited.
Ren sat on the bench as always, sketchbook in his lap, pencil still.
But his thoughts weren't about Hana today.
They were about the letter.
The one with no name.
Folded neatly. Written in elegant handwriting that didn't match Hana's soft curves or his own stiff lines. The voice behind the letter was calm, reflective… and unknown.
He had read it three times the night before.
"Sometimes, people don't know they're being seen. But that doesn't mean no one is watching."
The words still lingered in his mind like smoke.
And for the first time since all of this had begun —the sketches, the mailbox, the silent language between him and Hana —he felt… observed.
Not in a bad way.But not gently, either.
Hana arrived later than usual.
She walked slower that day, as though her thoughts weighed more than her schoolbag. When she reached the tree, she paused.
Ren didn't speak — he never did — but she noticed the difference in his posture.Something was unsettled.
She sat beside the tree, just far enough to keep the silence comfortable.
Then, as if pulled by instinct, she looked toward the mailbox.
She reached in.
And found the letter.
It wasn't for her — she knew that right away.But someone had left it behind.
She unfolded it carefully.Read.
And felt a chill travel down her spine.
Not from the words.From the feeling that they had been meant for someone else —and that she wasn't supposed to see them.
But she read it all the same.
When she finished, she folded it again.Slower this time.
And looked up at Ren.
He was already watching her.
They didn't speak.
But the silence was different now.Tense. A new presence had entered the space between them.
Someone else is here.
That thought passed between them like wind through branches.
High above, in the school's third-floor corridor, Sayaka stood by the window again.
She hadn't intended to watch this time.
But somehow, her feet had carried her there anyway.
She saw Hana take the letter.
Saw Ren notice.
Saw the stillness spread.
She backed away from the glass. Slowly.Carefully.
Her heart beat louder than the school bell.
At lunch, Sayaka sat alone for once.
Usually, she had at least two friends who invited her over. Today, she made an excuse. Said she had to study.
But she didn't open a book.
Instead, she opened her notebook again.
And began another letter.
"There's more than one way to be invisible.Some people vanish by choice.Others just fade quietly."
She paused.
Then continued.
"I'm not trying to interrupt what you have.I'm only trying to understand what it is."
She thought about signing it. Just an initial. Something.
But she didn't.
She folded the paper, slower this time.There was a kind of weight in the act now.
A kind of intention.
That afternoon, Ren found the second letter.
This time, the paper was placed with care — tucked into the crook of the mailbox like a secret waiting to be discovered.
He read it as Hana watched.
He didn't look at her afterward.
But she noticed his shoulders tense — just slightly.
Hana stood.
Walked to the mailbox. Looked inside.
Empty now.
But she knew.
She wasn't the only one leaving letters anymore.
They sat apart that day.
Still in the same space.But the air between them had changed.
Three shadows now lingered in that garden:
One sitting quietly with a pencil.One waiting beneath falling blossoms.And one hidden just beyond the edge of the scene.